The Real Model
by Inovermyheadinlove
Summary: No one gets to know the person behind the mask. No one sees who we really are. All they see is who we are in front of the camera. I wish someone would care enough to get to know the real me. This is my story of how I met the person who did. Austin is a model, but he wishes someone would care about him instead of his appearance. No one ever has. That is, until he met Ally Dawson.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Austin and Ally, only the plot!**

**Austin's P.O.V**

All around me I hear the snapping of the camera, and I see the continual flash of the camera. I am currently standing in front of a back drop, while another "genius" photographer is taking my picture. My name is Austin Moon, I am 17 years old, I work for a top modeling agency, and I am their best model. Their word's and all the high-end fashion magazine's editors words, not mine. You see, I am not your typical model. I actually do not care about modeling, and being in the spotlight. I'm not into all the fame and the celebrities you meet in the industry. I admit I am good-looking, but there are many others who are too. I am not the typical male model who watches their diet constantly, and who uses their looks to their advantage. I do not constantly work to "perfect" my image, but I do have to follow orders. I just watch the amount of sugar and calories I eat, I go to the gym a couple of times a week, and I am distant to my fans. I know, I know, my fans are all part of my success, but when you're a model for this agency, they don't matter. Fans are only people who support your career, they are not people who further it. The company policy: Never socialize with your fans, because even if you ignore them, they will continue to support and draw attention to you. It doesn't matter who you are to them anyway, they only like you because of your looks. Since I'm considered "famous", or the truth is valuable to the agency, I am not allowed to live like a normal person. When I go out to eat, I am only allowed to dine at the fanciest restaurants because I have to "keep up my image". When I go to work out, I am only allowed to go to the most exclusive gyms. Instead of being surrounded by everyday people, I am surrounded by celebrities. I never consider myself one of them because the truth is I only accepted this job because of the salary. That may sound shallow, but the truth is that I had a tough time growing up. There would be some times where I couldn't eat because we needed the money for other things, or the power would be turned off because we couldn't afford to pay the bill. Without power, we would have to brave the cold weather with very little protection from our clothes, and we couldn't cook food on the stove. There would be times where my father would work multiple odd jobs a day just to be able to afford to put food on the table, and sometimes I wouldn't even be awake when he returned home. Even as a young boy, I could tell that my mother was tired. She was tired of being poor, tired of being hungry, tired of living most of the time without her husband, and tired of not being able to adequately take care of her family. Even though I wish the circumstances were different and that my family and I hadn't struggled, I still appreciate the bond it created. It made us closer because through the hard times, we still had each other. We didn't have much, but we had love, and that helped us through many hard times. So as soon as I was old enough, I sought out any job that had a generous pay because I was determined to help my parents. They had done so much for me, that I wanted to make their lives better. At first it was hard to find an employer to accept me because surprisingly no one wants to hire a "kid" with no education and no prior work experience. So I took what I could get and I worked as a delivery boy, a dog walker, and a shoe polisher. Believe me, I hated these jobs but I was determined to provide for my parents so I just sucked it up and gave my paycheck to my parents. Then as I was about to quit my shoe shining job, a miracle happened. I was polishing the shoes of an apparent rich guy who was very successful. He had a briefcase in one hand, the latest smartphone in the other, and he was apparently talking to someone through an earpiece. He was wearing an expensive suit with high-dollar shoes, and he had a slicked-back haircut. At first he didn't appear to notice me, and I mean who would notice a teenage kid who was covered in shoe polish and probably had no future? Then as I stood up to collect my money, he just kinda stared at me. I became self-conscious because I wasn't necessarily ashamed of my poverty because what happens happens, but I was starting to wonder if he knew I was poor. Finally the guy woke up from his trance, handed me a card, and just walked away to continue his business. Looking at the card, I knew that this job would definitely provide more income for my family. I was unsure about this opportunity because I had no experience in modeling, but I decided to go to the audition and see what happens. When I returned home that night, I showed my parents the man's card, and they strongly encouraged me to do what I thought best. I could tell that they didn't want me to leave, but I also knew that they didn't want to hold me back. So I knew right then and there that I would do whatever it takes to improve the live's of my parents, no matter how miserable I was.


	2. Chapter 2

**Austin's P.O.V**

It was the day of the audition, and I was more nervous than a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. I mean, I have no modeling experience and I have no formal education. I do not know how to be "fancy", or how to act like a model. But one thing's for sure, I'm gonna do this for my mother and father! They've worked hard all their lives and now it's time for someone to take care of them. They deserve to have an easy life, and I'm going to give it to them. So I wipe my sweaty palms on my new denim jeans as I make my way up to the interview room. For this special opportunity, my parents insisted I buy some "presentable" clothes, but I not knowing what that meant exactly decided to go "classic/casual". So I bought some denim jeans, a red/black plaid shirt, and some gently worn, but still presentable black and white converse. I guess I looked like your average teenage boy, but after a long shower and hours of combing my tangled hair, I looked half-way decent. I left my hair a little longer than usual, but my mother said all the guys my age wear an "unruly" kind of style, and momma knows best. As I stepped into the room, I immediately felt all eyes on me. It made me a tad uncomfortable because I knew I didn't belong here, but as I started to turn around to leave I suddenly stopped. I heard a voice call out, "Okay, everybody leave! We don't need anyone else!". Feeling disappointed in myself for blowing the best opportunity I had to help my parents, I begin to turn the handle when I hear "Wait! Not you! You, blondie come back here!". I make my way over to the table, and I am immediately led to a room where there are many lights and cameras set up. They begin to take pictures of me, and when they're finished I can't read their expressions. I have absolutely no clue as to what all this means, but I know that my future is forever changed. I'm told the top booking agent of the agency wants to talk to me, and let's just say I was scared. I had no idea what to expect, or what to do. So as I'm approached by a tall, blonde haired woman in her mid-thirties I just stand there frozen in shock. " Hello. My name's Kelsey Bell, but you can call me Kelsey Bell okay? I am the best agent of this company, and let's just say I know talent. I think you have it, and even more potential. The good news is the camera loves you, but since this is a high-class modeling agency you'd have to wear nicer clothes, okay? Are you okay with that? Of course you are! This is a opportunity most guys your age would kill for! So are you in? Will you be a fashion representative for our company by accepting this offer?" I just stare at her because honestly I have no one to represent me, and I have no idea what I should accept and what I shouldn't. But, as I think about my poor parents and the quality of their lives I accept the offer. "Great, let's head to my office to fill out the paperwork and then I'll assign you your agent". A few weeks pass and I'm headed to my first photo-shoot for a sort-of popular fashion magazine. They're not as famous as Vogue or Gentleman's Quarterly, but I'm still new to modeling so I wasn't expecting a high-paying job just yet. Still, for this gig I earned $3,000, and that's probably the most money my family has ever had! All I have to do was pose in some sort of soft suit (silk), and wear these really uncomfortable shoes. The part I didn't like was having my makeup done and having my hair styled. I believe that we should just be ourselves and show off our natural beauty, not expressing fake values. I wasn't really enjoying being a model, but at least the people were nice to me and they treated me respectfully. I could talk to them, and we'd tell a few jokes while they were styling my hair or picking out my wardrobe. It was nice that even though my modeling career was on the rise, I still had people who treat me like a normal person. Before long, I became more "noticed" in the fashion industry and after doing a few more mediocre jobs, I finally got offers from people in the "big leagues". My agent, Martha, started to receive offers from Abercrombie Fitch, Hollister, GQ, and even a few from Vogue. I had so many shoots lined up that there wasn't time to do all of them. It seemed like everyone wanted the "hottest and newest model in fashion", the "blonde hunk", and the "dreamy heartthrob" to model for them! Soon, I was in such high demand that instead of rejecting offers, the companies agreed to be put on a waiting list. But, as I moved up higher and higher in the modeling industry, the people I met became less and less friendly. They only cared about their success and what I could offer to help them achieve their goal. They talked less, and just treated me like I was nothing. I was not a person to them, I was just a prop that they could use however they wanted. I would show up, get ready, pose for pictures, and then go back to my expensive pent-house in the upper-class part of New York. That is what fame got me. An expensive house where I would never have to worry about being cold ever again, a comfortable bed, and I was also surrounded by other famous people. Even though I was successful, I became less and less happy with my job because no one really cared who I really was. All they cared about was my looks, and how much money I could make them. I missed my old life because even though I was poor and I struggled, I still had people who loved and cared for me. I just wish that I could find someone who would care about me. Someone who could look past my cold, model exterior, and actually get to know who I am on the inside. Someone who would look past my good looks, and like me for my flaws and imperfections. Someone who wouldn't care if I was a model, and who could just accept me for who I am. I just wish I could find someone who would treat me like I was human again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry for the long wait. I had writer's block! Disclaimer: I do not own Austin and Ally.**

**Chapter Three**

**Austin's P.O.V**

I am so tired. I have been flying nonstop all around the world for various high-end fashion shows, and I haven't had any down time to rest. I'm in the states one minute and then as soon as I'm done with that show or that shoot, I have to go to Italy, Paris, or Bejing. I am also really stressed because I haven't had any time to spend with my parents. As you know, family is my first priority and not being able to see them for almost 4 months is really taking it's toll on me. I still haven't convinced them to live with me (I have plenty of room, so that's not a problem), and they also haven't agreed to let me buy them a nice home. I just want my parents to have better, and be able to enjoy their lives. They've had such a hard life, struggled so much, and still managed to raise me? They definitely deserve better than what they have now. I am now boarding the plane that will take me from China back to New York, and let's just say I can't wait to get back. Maybe I can convince Martha to give me some time off. If she does, the first thing I'm gonna do is go home. Back to my parents, back to my roots, and back to where I can truly be me.

**Martha's P.O.V**

I'm sitting at my computer, logging Austin's appointments that I'm currently reading off my tablet when I see the blonde devil himself appear. I take one look at him and I know he's unhappy. You can just tell that he hates this job, but he has an ulterior motive. I gently lay down my tablet, and say "Austin, sit". He obeys, and uncomfortably sits in the latest-style leather futon. *_Ha, poor kid. Even after all this, he still isn't used to this lifestyle?* _"Austin, I noticed that your head-shots aren't looking as good as before. I think you're losing your edge." I pause to let this sink in, and I notice the subtle, but composed tension in his posture. He looks slightly alarmed, and then he asks "My edge? What does that mean? Am I out of a job?" I think of all possible solutions, but only agree on one. He needs a break. Plastic surgery, and photoshopping is out of the question, so I'm forced to make him take time off. "Austin, I think it would be best if you took some time off. A break". Looking relieved that he isn't fired, he suddenly looks worried. "Am I still going to get paid?" "I think I can arrange that, now go! I want you out of here, and relaxing!"

**Austin's P.O.V**

As soon as I step through the doors of the modeling agency I work for, my mood instantly brightens. I get to have a break and relax, but I still get paid so I can provide for my family. I am so excited to head back home, that I refuse the open door my limo driver offers me and instead I choose to walk. I haven't had fresh air in awhile, and it'd be nice to be around some normal people. On the way home, I stop by this quiet little cafe that has the best green tea. I love sweet tea, but sigh, green tea is healthier. As I wait in line, I'm surprised no one notices me. I'm actually a little disappointed. Sure, there's lots of people in New York, but it's not everyday that a famous model stands behind you in line! *_Stop, Austin! Don't get sucked in! Famous life is not for you! Remember? Small town, poverty,morals, humility?* _I finally reach the counter and I place my order to this petite brunette standing behind the counter. She's beautiful, but I care only about my looks-not anybody elses! "Name, please?" I detect a slight Southern accent. "Austin Moon" I reply in a bored, uninterested tone. She just cheerily writes my name on the plastic cup, and hands my order off to the other person. I wait on the other side of the counter, watching the person make my green tea. It's taking forever, but how hard could it be? It's already pre-made junk, so all you have to do is pour it in a cup! I watch the girl pick up my drink, but only to drop it on herself. The girl who took my order told her to go get changed, I think, I was already on my way out the door. I don't have time for this! I was in such good mood, and then some dumb barista had to ruin my drink! I _deserve_ better service than that! I am a celebrity! I am famous, and I- no! _*Stop Austin! You aren't like this! Remember who you really are. You are no better than anyone else!" _As I reach my top of the line, elite residence, the only thing I can think of is: I want to go home.


End file.
